


Change and Chance

by ladyarcherfan3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyarcherfan3/pseuds/ladyarcherfan3
Summary: Sabé struggles with balancing her duty to protect Padmé and her desire to have her own life while maintaining a friendship with her.  And Obi-Wan seems to be there when he is needed, which is never when Sabé expects.





	Change and Chance

Sabé led the droids away from Padmé and the throne room on a merry chase through the palace, darting behind pillars and firing her blaster, barking orders.  Rabé and Eirtaé and the guards followed her lead, and they wound their way back down to the hanger bay. Bolts ricocheted around and cracked through metal and stone.  Then, the droids froze.

From behind the pillars where they’d taken cover, the handmaidens traded confused glances.  If it was a ruse to draw them out, it wasn’t the most clever. After a moment, Eirtaé shrugged and leveled her blaster at the nearest droid.  The head blew off and it toppled to the ground. After a moment, so did the rest, puppets with their strings cuts. 

Their comms all went wild at the same time - pilots breaking protocol to cheer out their victory over the open channels, Captain Panaka ordering check ins, guards calling their fellows.  The more immediate voices of the guards around them broke out into cheers as what happened finally sank in.

Sabé’s comm chirped with Padmé’s direct line.  “Yes?”

“They’ve surrendered and are going to discuss a new treaty and the terms of their surrender.  Can you locate the Jedi so they can stand as a neutral party?” 

“Of course, my Queen,” her voice a little hoarse from shouting orders in the royal monotone.  “We will be there shortly.”

She sent Rabé and Eirtaé back to the throne room with a few guards, since their place was at Padmé’s side.  A few other guards were sent to look down the adjoining halls to see if the Jedi could be located there. Sabé decided to check towards the power generator, which is where she had seen them last before the battle had swept them all apart.

“Oh, I see, she just wants to make sure she has time to spend with Padawan Kenobi without the rest of us,” Eirtaé said in a stage whisper to Rabé.  

Sabé was suddenly grateful for the heavy layer of makeup on her face.  While stranded on Tatooine, the young Jedi had struck up a conversation with Sabé - who he thought was the actual Queen Amidala.  Since there wasn’t much to do, and stress of waiting for Padmé to return and the inability to do anything about Sio Bibble’s message was too wearying to keep on the forefront of her mind, Sabé had indulged him.  Before long, she actually enjoyed herself. He wanted to know more about Naboo’s traditions and history; he had studied up on the planet to prepare for the negotiations, but he was eager to learn more and from a first hand account.  He was an excellent listener and asked appropriate and meaningful questions. After she made a joke - one more appropriate for a handmaiden than a queen - his amused smile turned into a wide laugh, and he commented how he pleased to know that the Queen had a sense of humor under all that makeup and regalia.  That damned grin had tested the strength of the white makeup on her face as Sabé blushed. She’d been annoyed that her facade had slipped that far, and that the grin and his bright eyes above it had made her stomach clench and flop in a way that she didn’t have time for. Eirtaé had noticed Sabé’s reaction and had not let up on it since. 

Rabé just rolled her eyes and gave Eirtaé a small shove.  “And you should be more concerned with doing your duty than teasing.”  

Eirtaé just darted closer to Sabé.  “She’s only saying that because she’s not interested in men.  Go tell him a few more of your jokes, now that he knows you’re not the real queen.”

“By the goddesses, go to Padmé,” she hissed back, the blush heating her face more as she remembered her own awkwardness at re-introducing herself to both Jedi after the meeting with Boss Nass. 

With a final smirk, Eirtaé trotted out of the hanger and back to the throne room.  Sabé took a deep breathe and shook her head. Eirtaé had been the most insufferable older sister to the other handmaidens in regards to possible crushes since the first day of their training.  Why she had decided to step back into that role less than five minutes after a battle, Sabé had no idea. Everyone processed the adrenaline drop differently, she supposed. Her own body felt light and heavy at once.  She took another deep breath and started towards the power generator to give her mind and body purpose again. 

There were no signs of battle as she walked down the hall - no droid parts, no blaster marks on the marble walls.  After the noise of the fight, it was too silent; her boots against the floor and her breath echoed against the walls as they changed from marble to duracrete and metal.  The light was behind her, and her shadow stretched along her path, awkward and strange with her movements and the headdress. One would have thought she would have been used to seeing herself like that, between practicing and the actual body double act.  Her eyes tracked the movement of the shadow and unfocused a little until it blurred against the floor. The battle had taken more out of her than she had thought. 

Her shadow ran into something, and she jumped before she could stop herself.

“Your High-  I mean, Sabé.  Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was not looking where I was going.”  

Sabé took a deep breath and forced her eyes and mind to focus.  It was Padawan Kenobi. As fast as the relief at finding him hit her, it turned into concern.  His face was grey, eyes red, and it looked like both sweat and tears had left tracks down his cheeks.  Most worrying was the faint stoop to his shoulders, as if a weight had been dropped there, and he wasn’t sure he could hold it.  

“Padawan Kenobi?  Is everything alright?”  

For a moment he didn’t respond, his own eyes slipping out of focus, hands clenching tight into fists. 

“Obi-Wan?” she tried, and he flinched, but came back from whatever place his mind had gone.  “What is the matter? Are you wounded? And where is Master Jinn?” 

He flinched again, and his breath hitched.  “He… He is dead,” he managed. “And so is the Sith,” he added as an afterthought.

Sabé felt her own breath catch.  The conversation they’d had on Tatooine hadn’t been restricted to Obi-Wan asking her questions.  She’d had her own queries about the Jedi Order, about masters and padawans. She’d been able to see the bond of love and family that was between them, and knew something like that with the other handmaidens.  “Oh Obi-Wan, I am so sorry.”

He nodded.  “Thank you. But I must think of my duty at this time.”  He blinked a few times, and it did nothing to hide the redness, he looked more alert and focused.  “I need… I need help moving his body to somewhere suitable. And I need to contact the Jedi Council.”  

“Of course,” she agreed.  “I will have some of the guards come and take him to the funeral temple, in a place of honor and respect.  And I can arrange for a communication link for you to reach Coruscant.” 

A shadow of a grin flicked across his face.  “Are you sure you’re not actually the queen?”

“The Queen!”  Sabé’s stomach dropped in horror at her negligence.  She’d forgotten about Padmé and the Trade Federation surrender.  “She requested that you and Master Jinn stand as mediators to the surrender terms, but given what just happened-”

He held up a hand to stop her.  “No. I must focus on my duty. There is little else I can do for my Master now.  He has rejoined the Force. And I must see this mission through.”

Sabé saw very little of Obi-Wan after she brought him to the throne room.  Padmé took her aside and rattled off a list of tasks she needed done during and after the surrender.  And when Sabé told her what had happened to Qui-Gon Jinn, Padmé asked if she could personally make sure any requirements for a Jedi funeral were met, as if Sabé hadn’t been planning to do just that herself.  The part Qui-Gon had played in their liberation would not be forgotten by the Naboo. 

“And please get out of that outfit and into something more comfortable.  I know how awful those headpieces are after a few hours, and you’ve been in a battle in that thing.”  Padmé squeezed her hands and smiled. “We did it, Sabé. We saved our planet and our people, and renewed relations with the Gungans.  We did it.”

Sabé smiled back, gut twisting and dancing with excitement and pride.  All the work that had gone into their training, the hours of study and practice to build an image of Queen Amidala that both of them could replicate perfectly, the terror of the battle - it had all been worth it.  Padmé had made her mark on the universe, and she would not stop now that she had started. And Sabé would be there to support her as long as she could. 

She caught sight of Obi-Wan out of the corner of her eye - still a bit pale, but composed and quietly intimidating as he just looked at Nute Gunray as he stammered and stuttered about rights and treaties.  If any of her sister handmaidens - or goddesses forbid, Padmé - had been injured or killed in the battle, would she have still have been as elated and proud? How much of her desire to serve Padmé and Naboo be able to deflect such a personal grief, no matter how much it was for the greater good?  Looking at Obi-Wan, she was glad she didn’t have to find out for herself. Her heart ached for his loss. 

*

Despite all the public clamor to keep the young queen who saved Naboo from the Trade Federation, Padmé refused to break tradition after her two terms.  But she did not step away from service to her people. At the request of Queen Jamillia, Padmé plans were made to run for the Senate, as well as back up plans for more local government if she did not win the election.  

Change came slow and then all at once.  As Padmé’s reign drew to a close, the sisterhood of the handmaidens began to break apart.  The handmaidens were only sworn to protect their queen during her tenure. If they desired to and were accepted, they could swear fealty to the next queen and continue their service there.  Eirtaé made that choice, and joined the next group of young women; once again, she stood out like a sore thumb with her white blonde hair. Yané and Saché, the two youngest of the group, opted to go onto university and were determined to stay on Naboo. Rabé got married and traveled away from Theed with her wife.  A growth spurt put Sabé out of the ability to realistically be Padmé’s body double; Cordé was brought in and trained in that role. Sabé both loved and hated that change. It had been stressful beyond belief to be Padmé’s double and bodyguard; so much depended on her skill in imitation and with a blaster when needed.  It was a relief once that weight lifted from her shoulders. At the same time, she hadn’t realized how much of her life had become intertwined with Padmé’s. She had linked so much of her identity and self with Queen Amidala that extricating Sabé from that left her weak and confused. If anything similar affected Padmé while she transitioned from Queen to Senator, she never let onto Sabé.  That lack of closeness cut the deepest.

Unsure of what to do and unwilling to let Padmé travel to Coruscant with relatively inexperienced handmaidens, Sabé went with her to set up her residence and offices.  She refused to think how inexperienced she and the others had been when Naboo had been taken and then freed. Cordé and Versé and Tekla seemed so impossibly young that she just wanted to protect them all as well as Padmé.  That, at least, gave her a direction and purpose. 

Chancellor Palpatine arranged a welcome party in Padmé’s honor.  There were all the usual dignitaries and Naboo allies, as well as a familiar but completely unexpected face. 

“Obi-Wan?” 

He was in the familiar cream and brown attire that the Jedi favored, dull against all the finery in the room.  His hair was longer and a neat beard outlined his jaw. He looked like he had aged more years than the eight years warranted, but not in a bad way.  It was a sense of maturity. It reminded her of how Padmé had always seemed older than her age. 

“Sabé?  It is a surprise to see you again,” he bowed his head in greeting, and a hint of a smile lit his face.  “Though perhaps I should not be surprised to see the former queen’s loyal bodyguard here.”

She shook her head, but smiled.  “I am still one of her handmaidens, but no longer able to be her body double.”  

Obi-Wan’s grin flickered to life.  “I thought you were closer to eye level than the last time we spoke.”

“At least this time you can see my eyes, and not a head peice or hood,” Sabé replied, and then felt her face go hot and red as the words slipped out in a more flirtatious manner than she wanted.  Thank the goddesses that Eirtaé wasn’t there. 

“It is far less intimidating to speak to you without those massive headpieces.  And far more pleasurable to speak to you in circumstances such as this.” His tone was amused and his grin edged towards smirk territory, though Sabé convinced herself she was projecting.  “How are you faring with Padmé as a senator and not a queen?”

“It is an adjustment, though not as much as one would think.  Padmé is still Padmé, no matter where she is or what title she holds.  Driven and at times a bit reckless, but always for the greater good.” Sabé fought down any lingering blushes and asked, “And what about you?  How has being a knight and having your own padawan been compared to before?”

“I am not sure anything about my knighthood and Anakin’s apprenticeship is ordinary, considering the circumstances that sent us to each other.  All the other knights and masters are forever reminding me of that as well.” He traced the side of a finger across his mustache. “It is challenging for both of us, but we work well as a team, and Anakin has come so far in his studies.  He was rather put out that he wasn’t invited to this little celebration, since he played a key role in the liberation of Naboo and was Padmé’s friend more than I was, as he told me this morning,” Obi-Wan shook his head, but a rueful smile stayed.  “But he did have a late class and a test tomorrow, so even if I would have let him break decorum by coming to an event with no invitation, I had the excuses of keeping him rested for his school work.”

Sabé couldn’t hold back a laugh at the image of Obi-Wan facing down the large sad eyes of his little apprentice.  Or rather, as she ammended her mental image, a snarky and cranky teen. 

“It was almost good that I had Anakin so soon after Qui-Gon died,” Obi-Wan said, tone serious but not sad.  “It gave me someone else to focus on, gave me direction.” He looked at Sabé, his gaze steady and calm. It made her feel a little lost; she wanted that feeling of centered strength that she’d had for eight years.  “I sense that you are looking for something for yourself with Padmé’s new direction.”

“Yes.  I am.” After a moment she spilled out more of her concerns and fears than she had to anyone.  She bit back the torrent of words and tried not to blush again. “But you don’t need to hear about all that.”

He reached out and took her hands in both of his.  “I am glad you confided in me. And I do believe you deserve to find your own path.  Perhaps it is with Padmé, perhaps it is not. But I do know that Sabé is more than just a shadow of Queen Amidala.  You have more to give the galaxy than that, no matter how small or how far your path will lead you from this moment.”

Obi-Wan was drawn away then to speak with some of the other senators, and Sabé returned to shadow Padmé so Versé could have a break.  She didn’t get a chance to speak with Obi-Wan the rest of the evening, but his words echoed through her mind. They proved to be the spark that lit a fire of action in her, the embers of her heart that had been smoldering in indecision and fear flashing to life again.

The next day, she handed a letter of resignation to Padmé.

Confusion and hurt flashed across her face as she took the letter.  “Why would you give me a letter-”

“I thought it best to be official, and I know senators are involved in so much paperwork,” Sabé cut in, unsure even as she spoke if she was trying for levity or not. 

“So you just wanted to add to my workload?” Padme said, but there was nothing but an old familiar tone of teasing in her words.  

“What if I was?” 

Padmé set aside the letter to stand and hug Sabé.  “I guess I’d just deal with it, since you won’t be around much longer.”

“You forget who liked to order who around as Amidala,” Sabé shot back, tears rising with the teasing.

“You always did enjoy that a bit too much.”

Sabé shrugged.  “You always got me back, though.”

Padmé squeezed her a bit tighter and then stepped back to look her in the face.  “Can I ask why? I am not going to deny you, but after all this time, I’ve seen us continuing to work together, as friends as much as a protector.”  

“It’s nothing that is your fault.  But I have to figure out my own self, and figure out what shape my life is outside of Amidala.  I would never trade the years in training and serving you, but it is not where I feel I need to be anymore.”  She sighed a faint laugh. “Despite how young they look to me, Cordé, Versé, Dormé, and Teckla are perfectly ready to handle anything you throw at them.”  

“I throw nothing,” Padmé said.  “I simply am more than prepared to catch what the universe throws at me.”  She pulled Sabé into another hug. “We need to set up a schedule to keep in touch.  Or just call me whenever. As long as I am not in an active debate or vote, I will answer.”

“That better be all the action you see while a senator,” Sabé warned.  But she wiped away a stray tear as she stepped out of the hug. “And I will keep in touch.” 

“May you find happiness and peace, no matter where you go, Sabé.” 

She left Coruscant, her chest aching.  The excitement to start the next chapter in her life swelled like a balloon, but it rubbed up against the raw edges of her heart.  So much was being left behind and changing, and it felt like a heartbreak. The two emotions balanced the other out until she arrived on Naboo.  Determination and curiosity opened doors she would have never considered. 

The initial plan was a version of a gap year that some university students usually indulged in before they started their studies in earnest.  She followed whims and half formed interests around the planet. Visits were paid to family and friends, camping trips were had, and she splurged to stay at an exclusive resort that she and Padmé had never visited.  It turned into closer to two years before she made her way back to Theed.

Eirtaé greeted her at the door when Sabé arrived at the headquarters of where the handmaidens were trained.  “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“I certainly didn’t miss your face,” Sabé teased, and Eirtaé gave an exaggerated pout.  “But I knew I could apply my skills here. And it feels like home.” 

Eirtaé nodded in agreement.  “We need someone with your makeup skills.  I don’t know how, but the new girls all manage to make that white look awful on the queen.”  

“Are you using the right formula for her skin type - if her face isn’t as oily as Padmé’s was, that’s going to change what foundations you should use, and how that looks. Also, her skin tone is completely different.”  She stopped and looked at Eirtaé in horror. “You haven’t been the one trying to teach the makeup, are you? Oh, goddesses, what were you thinking?”

“Just thank the goddesses you are back to fill that void, and I can go back to focusing on blaster training,” Eirtaé hooked her arm into Sabé’s and hauled her through the door.

Sabé slipped back into the role of an instructor easily.  The students were comprised of young women who would one day could be handmaidens, as well as any other who wished to gain multiple skills in one place, instead of training at individual places.  There were a number of politicians, celebrities and upper class people of Naboo that appreciated an aide that could both curl hair and fire a blaster. Other in the classes had an eye at becoming private investigators or just wanted the skill sets to improve their own lives.  It felt good. It felt right. 

Then a bomb aimed at Padmé killed Cordé and Versé.    

“I can be in Coruscant in a standard day if you say the word,” Sabé said as Padmé appeared in the holocall.  She had finally picked up after most of the day and about twenty calls from Sabé had passed, and judging by her hair and clothing, she was preparing for sleep.  

“You don’t need to do that.  I am physically fine, and the Chancellor has arranged for Jedi to help guard and investigate the bomber.”  

“But mentally?  Emotionally?” Sabé pressed.  

Padmé sighed and closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I will be fine, with some time. Teckla is arranging the funerals - she’s bringing them back to Naboo.”  She opened her eyes. “Can you be there, in my stead? It has been suggested that I keep a low profile.” 

“Of course.  But are you sure you don’t want me on Coruscant afterward?  I trust Dormé and Teckla, but they are only two. Another hand with a blaster and sharp eye towards danger wouldn’t go amiss.” 

“I have two Jedi guarding me now, I am not certain there is enough room for more people,” she joked, but it fell flat.  “But no, Sabé. At least right now. I will contact you if something changes.”

A familiar voice from outside the range of the holo spoke over the edge of Padmé’s last word.  “My lady? We have finished the sweep of the rest of the rooms. If anything should happen, we are near at hand.”

“Thank you, Master Kenobi,” Padmé replied, speaking over her shoulder.  

Sabé waited a beat until she was certain that Padmé was alone again, and then hissed, “Master Kenobi?  He’s your guard?”

“Along with with the no longer little Ani,” Padmé replied, and then added, “He’s less endearing than he was ten years ago, and more awkward.”  

Sabé sighed.  “I know the Jedi are skilled, and Obi-Wan has been an ally in the past, but I’d be more comfortable with me there.”

“Where I need you now is Naboo, and at the funerals.  You trained Cordé as much as me to be a double, and Versé always looked up to you.  They and their families need you. I will be fine.”

“Call me, okay?  If you need anything.  Or before you need something.  Just keep in touch.”

“I will.”  

The call ended and Sabé slumped in her chair.  Obi-Wan was a Jedi and a skilled warrior, but she also trusted him as a person.  It was just difficult to accept that Padmé would be safe without her, even after two years apart.  She took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay, and stood up. She would need to contact Teckla and reach out to the families to offer support and help for the funerals.  She hadn’t been Amidala for several years, but it was an easy mask to slip on, to project the calm and strength that was needed. That was what Padmé and her sisters in arms required from her now.  And she’d be ready for when they called her for anything else.

 

*

 

Padmé never called Sabé to come to Coruscant with her blaster and keen eye.  She never called her to check in or just talk as she had done while Sabé traveled around Naboo and started teaching again.  When Sabé called, she answered; if not immediately, then at least by the next standard day. There was no doubt that the Clone Wars were occupying most of her time, but Sabé could not shake the sense that something else had changed, that Padmé was purposefully withdrawing.  

“It feels like more than just growing apart,” she told Rabé one day over mugs of tea during a visit.  “And it’s more than just that she has a lot of information she can’t share with me, a member of the public.  Even when I visited her at her family’s home, after she nearly died  _ again _ , this time of some weaponized virus, there was a wall there.  There is something she wants to tell me, something she wants to say, but won’t.”

“But what would she be hiding?  You know that Padmé isn’t afraid to speak her mind.  She was always pushing us to remember how clear communication is vital from the briefest conversation between strangers to political negotiations.  If she does have something to tell you, maybe she just can’t think of the right way to say it yet, and is figuring it out.”

Sabé took a sip of her tea and pondered Rabé’s words.  They held a ring of truth and offered a handhold for her spiralling worry.  “You’re probably right. I’ll just have to be patient.”

Rabé smiled.  “And try not to worry about her so much.”  

“Ha.  I can try.”  

“That’s all I can ask of you.”

Despite her words, Sabé could not help but worry.  Several more years passed by, and the Clone wars continued to rage, Padmé’s choices continued to drive spikes of fear and confusion through Sabé. Dormé returned to Naboo, saying that Padmé had not dismissed her, but just strongly suggested that her services were no longer required. More and more of the holocasts that Padmé was mentioned in were stories of her being involved in dangerous events.  While her actions often brought about change and victories to the Republic, they caused casualties, too. Teckla died; Sabé represented Padmé at yet another funeral. Padmé was not left entirely alone, but Moteé could only do so much by herself. 

Again and again, Sabé’s offers - and then demands - that she be allowed back to Padmé’s side were declined and refused.  A part of Sabé reminded her that Padmé was no longer queen and couldn’t order her around. But she respected their friendship too much to disobey Padmé’s wishes.  There was no evidence beyond a gut feeling that there was anything going wrong. Sabé suffered in silence.

In near silence, at least.  As the Clone Wars drew to a close, she saw a holocast with Padmé that made her gasp in surprise, delight, and hurt.  Ignoring Eirtaé’s grumblings, she dove across the living room and grabbed her comms and sent a private message.

“Padmé, I know you haven’t announced anything officially, but I can see you’re pregnant on the holos.”  She had to pause and cover the sound recorder against Eirtaé's shriek of surprise as she rewound the holo to get a better look.  “Please get back to me. We need to talk. I am so happy for you, but you seem to be wanting to do this all alone. You don’t have to.  Please. Let your friends back, and let us help!”

Sabé didn’t expect a call back from Padmé soon, since she hadn’t been responding to any calls sooner than two standard days for quite awhile.  When several weeks and a few more unanswered calls went by, however, she decided to try alternate options to reach her. 

Moteé looked terrified on the holo when Sabé called her; it probably didn’t help that Eirtaé had demanded to be included in the call and had an impressive scowl on her face to match Sabé’s.  

“I can’t say anything, Padmé made me promise.  Please don’t get angry with me, Sabé.” The terror shifted to weariness as Sabé calmed her scowl and took a deep breath and felt Eirtaé loosen next to her.  “And besides, Padmé is in a meeting with several other senators at the moment, so I can’t even just shove the communicator in her face and tell her to talk.”  She shook her head. “It’s hard, being her only handmaiden. She claims it is because she’s a senator and it’s a war and she doesn’t want to strain Naboo’s resources more than she needs to. But I think she just likes to go her own way when she’s not in senate meetings, and that means no handmaidens.  She hasn’t taken me with anywhere since Teckla.”

“And you  _ let  _ her go unprotected?” Sabé demanded.  “You are a Naboo handmaiden, Moteé, you should know better!”  

“And you try stopping Padmé when she sets her mind to something!  She knows how to get away without anyone noticing, and is a terrifying tiny bundle of terror when she wants to be as well.  But she usually goes with the Jedi, so she has a guard in them. But it’s gotten worse since she’s gotten visibly pregnant - she’s not going so many places, but she’s still so solitary.  She’s been talking about how she’s running out of time in the Senate and will have to retire once the baby is born.”

Eirtaé and Sabé exchanged confused looks.  There was nothing in Naboo law that forbade a senator from serving while parenting; if a parental leave was taken, they could step right back in once they returned for the rest of their term.  And there was nothing in the Galactic Senate that said it either.

Moteé caught their looks.  “I know, I know. Chancellor Palpatine has been… suggesting things when they meet.  Nothing outright, and Padmé does go back and forth between just taking maternity leave and retiring entirely, but either way she is feeling some sort of pressure about it.”  She sighed. “And there is the feeling that she’s getting worried about something else, not just her position and the baby. But she won’t actually talk to me about it! Or anyone that I know of.”

Sabé dropped her head into her hands.  “Just… could you tell me who she has been spending time with?  Any senator, any staff, any one? She might be rejecting her handmaidens, but she must have friends of some sort then.” 

“I will.”

Eirtaé groaned and rubbed her face as the call disconnected.  “We’re going to have to stage an intervention, aren’t we?” 

“We might have to.  I just wish I could fix this, and now.  If it is something that needs fixing and it’s not just in my head”

Eirtaé patted her shoulder.  “I think it’s more than in your head.  You’ll get it figured out. I’ll help.”

But they didn’t figure it out.  

Padmé died.

Sabé didn’t go to the funeral.  She’d had her fill of them, and couldn’t say goodbye.  She’d failed Padmé. If she’d pushed when her gut had told her something was wrong, this might have been avoided. When Padmé had refused to talk, she should have found ways to get her to open up. If she hadn’t left to find herself, she would have been where she was supposed to have been when Padmé had needed her. She would have been there to die in her place, as she had sworn to do, all those years ago, before she fully understood what that kind of pledge could mean.  

Those thoughts plagued her for weeks as she drifted around the handmaiden’s training home, trying not to cry when the young girls wore ribbons of red and gold - Amidala’s colors, not Apailana’s - in memory of Padmé.  She consulted the list of that Moteé had sent her, but she had never been able to get through to any of them personally. Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, Rush Clovis. Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

The holocasts were full of Emperor Palpatine and his warnings against the Jedi.  Lists of those that had been apprehended and those that were still at large rolled across the screens constantly.  Sabé constantly felt sick that she saw Anakin and Obi-Wan’s names on those lists - Anakin’s on the former, Obi-Wan’s on the latter.  In moments when her own grief and pain would ebb, she wondered how Obi-Wan was, wondered how much more his heart must have shattered to have his former Padawan killed, his entire way of life destroyed.  As much as she ached for the loss of Padmé and the world as she’d known it, Obi-Wan’s lot had to be much worse.

It was in the middle of night, with her mind spinning over the endless hours of the holocasts she’d watched and the news she’d tried to absorb that a thought shot through her mind as bright and painful as a blaster shot.  Between the reports of changes implemented by the Empire for the good of the people, and lists of Jedi, there had been a small blip about Bail Organa. About how he and his wife had adopted a war orphan to raise as their own.  

Sabé’s entire body thrilled and ached with a sudden possibility.  Without packing a bag or telling Eirtaé where she was going, she took one of the small but long range craft she had access to and charted a course to Alderaan.  

It was probably a minor miracle that she was allowed to see Bail Organa at all, arriving at the palace without invitation, without decent clothes, face stained with tears and weariness. She grew more convinced by the minute that her theory was true.  It only took her saying that she had been Padmé’s handmaiden and body double for Bail to agree to a meeting. As soon the doors to his office were closed, and they were alone, she asked her question.

“Are you the father of Padmé’s baby?”

Bail went white and staggered a little.  “How…?”

“You worked closely with her on more than one occasion.  You’re married, so in order to save both your reputation and hers, she never said who fathered her baby.  She was afraid of continuing conflicts of interests once the baby was born, which is why she was thinking of leaving the Senate.  And then she died, and you took her baby but still couldn’t afford to let an affair be connected back to you, so you said the baby was a war orphan .”  Sabé didn’t realize she was crying until she stopped to take a breath. “Is that close to the truth?”

“Oh.  Oh, Sabé.  That is not… that is not what happened.”  He helped to her a chair and pressed a soft handkerchief into her hands.  He settled across from her and waited until her tears slowed. “What I am going to tell you must be held in the strictest secrecy.  Myself and Breha and two others know the truth. But you deserve to know, and knowing your history with Padmé… She would trust you, and your ability to keep a secret.”  

The story poured out, and Sabé’s tears flowed with the words.  Waves of grief for Padmé mingled with self pity at her failures to act, and crashed into the glorious pain that was knowing Padmé’s daughter lived on and would have a loving family.  The handkerchief was soaked by the end. 

“Can… Can I see the baby, at the least?”

Bail’s face was soft with compassion.  “Of course.”

He led her through private passages to a soft white room with a window that looked out over mountains and rivers.  Breha was there, the regal air that Sabé had seen in all her appearances on holos stripped away as she cooed and rocked the baby in her arms.  She didn’t look surprised to see Sabé. 

“I told her,” Bail murmured as he stepped next Breha and Leia. 

Breha nodded and met Sabé’s eye without wavering.  “You have every right to know.” She took a step forward, shifting the baby in her arms.  “This is Leia.”

Feeling as if she’d shatter if she moved the wrong way, Sabé took Leia into her arms.  The Organas crossed to the far end of the nursery, and she was left alone with Padmé’s baby.  Tears welled and fell again, but she sank down into a rocking chair and spoke around them as best she could.  She told Leia about Padmé, about how Leia would grow up as strong and sure and passionate and kind as she had been.  Prayers that she would know as little pain and strife in her life as possible, but that struggles and hurts would only make her stronger and more compassionate.  Hopes that she would understand that the world had not always been as dark as it was now, and that light and hope would shine again. 

She was exhausted, and Leia had fallen asleep in her arms.  Bail took her and put her in a simple crib while Breha helped Sabé stand and gave her a glass of water.  

“We don’t want to pressure you or make presumptions about your life,” Breha said.  “And we want to raise Leia as our daughter as much as we can. But I am a queen and Bail a senator.  And even without her true history, we would need help. Your love for Padmé is obvious. Would you consider staying here on Alderaan as Leia’s governess?”  

“No.”

Bail and Breha both rocked a little at the speed and firmness of her reply.  

She continued.  “I don’t know anything about raising a baby or child.  But I want to be here for her. I need to be, in a way I wasn’t for Padmé in the end.  Let me stay in the shadows as a guardian for her. As she gets older, I can be an instructor.  Blasters, hand to hand, even makeup and hair. That way, I can guard her and give her the tools to protect herself and make her mark on the galaxy.”  

*

Sabé led a pair of droids down the narrow corridor of a ship; one fell behind, the other rolled at her heels, whistling and chirping.  It had been thirty two years since the last time she had run away from an enemy with the goal to protect and save. This time she was alone, with no other handmaidens to back her up. Nineteen years since she’d held a baby in her arms and swore to protect her.  The  _ Tantive V _ wasn’t taking hits from the Star Destroyer on their tail yet, but they’d be in range in moments.  They had precious little time and not much more hope that her plan would work. 

Leia appeared out of the gloom in the the corridor, her white dress a shining beacon in the dark.  “Sabé -”

“No time, Leia.  Load a copy of those plans into Artoo.”  She rapped her knuckles against the blue and silver droid’s dome.  “And then we are getting into an escape pod.”

Leia began the download but also started arguing.  “They are going to be scanning for lifeforms - we need to send the droid out and stay here to distract Vader; Artoo can find Obi-Wan Kenobi-”

Sabé wanted to scream.  Padmé’s daughter, a woman in her own right, was in danger.  They had been tasked with bringing Obi-Wan into the Rebellion, and then been given the key to the Empire’s downfall.  And Leia was arguing about  _ staying,  _ about putting herself in the line of fire when there were other options, when they had a chance to complete their mission.  They could escape and fight another day. __ There was no time, and she wasn’t about to waste it.  She grabbed Leia by the shoulders and shook her.

“Leia!  I wasted time years ago when I should have just acted.  I failed you mother and I am not going to let you get killed like she was.  My failure for Padmé is enough to haunt me. I am not losing her daughter. We are going,  _ now _ .”

“Padmé? Padmé Amidala?”  Leia looked so young suddenly, confusion and betrayal flashing across her face.  She’d known she was adopted for years and was fine with it; she’d also looked up to the example of Padmé Amidala and her work as a young queen and senator.  Sabé and the Organas had all been terrified that Leia would see the resemblance, that someone outside of their tiny circle would connect the dots. But no one ever did.  Leia was an Organa, princess of Alderaan. Padmé was just one on a long list of people that Leia admired. 

“No time!”  Sabé pushed her towards the escape pod, but Leia twisted away, a flash of white in the red lit gloom.  

Before Sabé could react, she’d smashed the eject buttons on a handful of pods and then scrambled into one.  “Let’s go! Artoo, you know what to do.”

The little droid chirped and rolled along.  Sabé slipped into the pod with Leia as Threepio staggered around a corner and started berating Artoo.  Then the doors on the pod swooshed shut and they were gone.

Silence hung heavy and thick in the pod.  There was not a lot of room, but a gulf yhawned deep and wide between Leia and Sabé.  The drop of adrenaline at the relief of escape made Sabé want to collapse, but Leia’s gaze pulled her back to attention.  Her spine straightened, head came up and for a heartbeat she saw Padmé as queen and not Princess Leia. All the other times she had seen Padmé in Leia, it ripped and tore at Sabé’s heart, but this time, she felt only relief.  Leia was safe, and would stay that way as long as Sabé could manage. 

“I think I am owed an explanation,” Leia said, words cool.  “But I understand if you do not think that. Obviously, there was some reason I wasn’t told.  In this moment, however, I believe I should get the full story.”

Sabé wanted to tell her, but didn’t get the chance.  They entered the atmosphere above Tatooine and braced for a hard landing.  Then they had to make their way across the sands, praying that Sabé’s navigation device hadn’t been wrecked in the landing and that Mos Eisley would have someplace for them to rest and get supplies. But she did tell Leia the whole story, in a tiny, dusty room as the desert turned from blazing heat to sudden cold with the loss of sunslight.

Leia took in all in silently.  After a long time, she thanked Sabé.  “It changes absolutely nothing about our mission,” she continued.  “We need to get Obi-Wan Kenobi, and get these plans to Rebel Command.”  She curled up in the tiny, lumpy bed, facing away from Sabé. 

“We’ll find a ship tomorrow,” Sabé whispered.  “We will do this.”

They went out the next morning for supplies.  Sabé wanted rations and water, but found a plain grey cloak to cover Leia’s white dress first.  She grabbed a similar one to hide her blasters on her belt. Whatever Leia still had to process from what she’d been told the night before, she didn’t show it on her face.  She was as determined and focused as she was any time she had a goal. 

“I’ll go haggle for water,” she said, twitching the cloak to settle in a more comfortable place around her shoulders.

“I’ll get rations.  Keep a low profile. Don’t get into any arguments.”

“I don’t get into arguments, people just refuse to see sense,” Leia shot back as she walked away, and Sabé had to squash another roil of emotion and memory. 

There were several vendors with travel rations for different species, but she found herself wandering away from them, drawn to the edge of the market square.  The suns already beat down on the town, bleaching everything white and making her head throb with the heat and light. A speeder came around a far corner and slowed to a stop.  The light hit it in such a way that she couldn’t make out the occupants, save that one wore a dark hooded cloak. It was an odd color choice in the desert. It was familiar.

The man’s head swung towards her, a sharp snap of movement.  She caught a flash of a white beard, the glimpse of a nose under the shadows.  Then, he was walking towards her, waving his companion back to the speeder. Sabé realized her hands were shaking, and she clenched them into fists, instinctively close to her blasters.  

“Sabé?”  The voice was hoarse, but she recognized the cadence and accent.  

“Obi-Wan.”

Long moments passed as they just stared at one another.  His face looked like a stranger’s for several heartbeats, but then she saw past the years and the white hair and a bone deep sorrow that had left marks on him, as a similar one had done to her.  

He smiled, and there was no doubt left in her mind.  Obi-Wan was still the Jedi she had known so briefly yet so well.  “I see the years have been far kinder to you than they have been to me.”

She ran a hand over her hair, steel grey and in a simple braid.  “You did start out a few years older than me to begin with,” she replied, hoping to hear him laugh.

He chuckled.  “There is no arguing that.”  He looked at her again and shook his head.  “The Force has been moving and reaching out in ways I have not felt for years.”  A delighted squeal of binary cut him off, and Artoo rolled his way between them, beeping about how he’d found Kenobi first.

Sabé stared between the droid and the Jedi.  “How?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and spread his hands.  “An escape pod with two familiar droids all but landed on top of my evaporator last night.  And this morning, Luke arrived, looking for whatever had landed there, in case he could salvage scraps for projects before the Jawas got it.”

The sun shifted enough that Sabé could see the young man next to the speeder.  Her stomach dropped even as her heart soared. A mess of images flashed through her mind as memories sought to find places on his face.  A small, blonde boy in dust colored clothes tagging behind Padmé as they left Tatooine. The shape of Padme’s face, the softness in her eyes and smile.  Sabé’s hands flew over her mouth before a sob could break loose. Obi-Wan’s arm touched her elbow as she swayed, but she felt it only distantly.

“Bail didn’t tell me the whole story,” she breathed.  “He didn’t say Padmé had twins.”

“We deemed it safer for both of them,” Obi-Wan whispered.  “Safer for them, but harder for us. To not know Luke save from afar, to know Anakin had a daughter as well… But I should have known you wouldn’t be kept from Padmé’s daughter.”

“Sabé!  That water vendor is nothing but a common highway thief.  Do you know how many credits he wanted for a day’s ration?  How can honest people survive on a planet like this?”

She felt Obi-Wan go rigid next to her as Leia stopped next to them.  Sabé wondered what of Anakin, what of Padmé he saw in Leia. The young woman looked between them, her scowl fading to a question.

“We found our objective,” Sabé said.

Leia took in Obi-Wan and Artoo, who was again declaring that he’d located Obi-Wan first.  She nodded. “Good.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze for Sabé.  Leia took charge. They found the rest of the few supplies they needed, and Obi-Wan found a cargo ship that would take them on as passengers, no questions asked.  Luke was painfully willing to help, but he was more like a lothcat underfoot than anything - adorable but annoying. Sabé could only see the dusty little boy that Anakin had been in Luke; she’d never known a time when Padmé had been wide eyed and naive.  They all were settled on the ship and leaving the atmosphere before the suns had set. 

The twins were up in the cockpit, Leia trading barbs with the pilot and Luke trying to stay in both their good graces, while the copilot growled mild insults in Shyriiwook.  Obi-Wan sat across the dejarik table from her, thumb on his jaw, finger absently brushing over his mustache. Sabé still felt detached from her body, the unreality of the situation overwhelming her.  Padmé’s children, Obi-Wan… She’d trusted him in the little time she’d known him, had considered him handsome in an unreachable way. The years might have been rough on him, but he still was handsome. 

He caught her staring and smiled.  “I haven’t been stared down with such intensity outside of a confrontation with Tusken Raiders in quite some time.” 

She blinked and forced her mind to focus.  “You do know that I will protect Leia’s life with my own.  At the expense of any one on this ship.”

“I understand.  But I would hope that you’d take Luke under your wing as well, if it came to that.”

“Of course,” she snapped.  Luke still didn’t feel real, and wasn’t embedded in her heart the way Leia was.  But he was still Padmé’s child. 

He looked at her, steady and calm.  “So many things change, yet stay the same,” he mused after a long moment.  “And it appears we both may have second chances for our greatest failures.”  He looked towards the cockpit. “A new hope burns bright in Luke and Leia. I hope that the Force leads us towards a path that keeps that light aflame, for the galaxy and us.”

Sabé snorted.  “My only hope is for Leia - that she survives this rebellion and sees the Republic restored and finds happiness in her own life.  There’s not much point at hoping for myself beyond that at this stage.”

“Why ever not?”

“We are both of the older generation.  It’s not for us to look for a place in the future.”

“But the present and the future can often be very closely tied.  What is wrong in looking for our own happiness and moments in the time that we do have, instead of just looking towards some dark inevitable end?  Do we not deserve a bit of joy?”

She squinted.  Was he… He couldn’t possibly be flirting with her, could he?  Every single one of her grey hairs and wrinkles came into stark relief in her mind as she thought about the reflection she saw in the mirror every morning.  But a voice that sounded like Eirtaé crowed in the back of her mind to flirt back. Then, a memory cut through her thoughts. Padmé, wishing her happiness and freedom.  So, she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table and smiled back at Obi-Wan. 

“You make some compelling points.  Consider me intrigued. But perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve made a good argument.  You were called the Great Negotiator in the Clone Wars for a reason.”

Obi-Wan laughed and a huge smile split his face.  Sabé saw the young Jedi from years before, as well as the young man she’d never had the opportunity to really know.  

With the fate of the galaxy balancing on the edge of a blade, her cares faded away.  She’d made her choices in the past and dealt with their consequences. Another choice was before her, and she made her decision.  There was no doubt that her life would be intertwined with Leia’s and all major decisions would be in line to keep her safe. 

In that quiet moment on an old smuggling ship, however, Sabé decided to use the time she had to find happiness and enjoy it for however long it lasted.  She chose to get to know Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man and not just the Jedi. And she would let him get to know the Sabé that was not a handmaiden. 


End file.
